


Gauze

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: First Person, Gen, Lestat POV, post TVA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-21
Updated: 2006-12-21
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Extremes of color, and extremes of sadness, and extremes of depth in a pair of brown eyes that hover far too close to my own. How dare he intrude on my abyss? If heaven or hell had been meant for him, he would have found it in his years of searching





	Gauze

\- 

 

Damn them all, angels and demons alike. For how long had they been whispering to me amongst a tempest of beating wings, and claws, and leathery hot hands? They have no need of me, no real need. How could they? They torture me even as they know that I am not of their celestial ilk.

 

_You are nothing to us..._

_You need us..._

_You are everything to us! Come!_

I shake my head. Months of visions still lie like fog across my consciousness. I want none of it. I have escaped, and I have no intention of returning. Not until this girl, Armandnomarius' fledgling, has finished her song. Give me that at least. I've earned the vacation, I think. Please God, let me rise and fall with these notes, but do not take this appeal to your name too seriously. I want no more to do with you than I do with him. Bastards.

The appasionatta begins and begins again, and ends, and lulls the hovering spirits into complacence. I can see the room when I dare to look at it, and I can see the other powerful and earthbound beings who surround me in this room.

Pandora is here, and David, and Armand. Marius' shoulders are slumped as if my very presence in the room tires him. That's alright, old man, I'm tired too. At least his back isn't turned. One of the new fledglings, the over-young boy, is staring at me unashamedly. So, he would feign break the fourth wall in this pitiful performance of mine! Armand holds him back. I laugh; a smile flickers uncertainly on Armand's lips, as if at that moment he dares to hope that he knows who he's looking at. If I could stop laughing long enough, I'd tell him he was out of luck.

_Lestat, take my hand. There. That's right. We love you, yes. Between two worlds, what rest can you hope to find? You've always wanted to be pure good, you've always wanted to be pure evil. You can leave that war of extremes behind, but only if you come to embody..._

Extremes of color, and extremes of sadness, and extremes of depth in a pair of brown eyes that hover far too close to my own. How dare he intrude on my abyss? If heaven or hell had been meant for him, he would have found it in his years of searching...

"But I wasn't truly searching for anything, Lestat. Not in those years. I was beyond it... You know that well enough."

There is an impossible intimacy to his whispered voice, if he is truly whispering at all. The movement of his lips, or lack there of, is quite beyond me. His fingers are cold and solid, and he seems to have altogether too many of them, though certainly not more than ten...

"Get up Lestat."

Strange, how Armand is the only one to speak... Armand, who is supposed to have burned. Perhaps he is merely another demon sent to lure me away from common rationality. Perhaps if this is so, I'll allow myself to be led.

"Lestat."

Hands on my shoulder. David is close, standing behind me. Is Louis there as well, glaring at Armand as if to ask what gives him the audacity to try and speak to me while I'm in the middle of this most beautifully orchestrated breakdown? Pandora and Marius are seated beside each other on separate armchairs, chillingly white, and chillingly like another ancient pair...

_They're here as well Lestat. Pull back the veil. You know them..._

I know David, and Louis, and Armand, and Marius...

"Damnit, Armand, get out of the way. I want to see Louis."

I've risen to my full height now, and these strange new perceptions make it seem like I'm towering over him, or he's towering over me. Surely one or both of us is utterly insignificant. No matter. It's him. He moves away, leaving me to another's attention.

Back to the chapel with me then. Damn it all. Blackness.

Flash on the floor of the church: Books piled around the place where Louis sits, their arrangement haphazard. Louis’ books should not look like that…

"Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, 

moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams. "

"Ye Gods, Louis, anything but that..."

"You're awake."

I have to smile at the soft unobtrusive surprise in his voice.

_You are not yet ready to wake. Remember, we can abandon you forever to this world... Remember, we need you._

Has it been days of this, or weeks, or hours? Something has happened. I've driven away the rogue fledglings, and watched them burn, and tasted their blood, but I can't imagine ever having to move like that again. Where is Sybelle? I want to hear the Sonata.

"She is at the house, Lestat. I can take you..."

"Get the hell out of my mind."

Armand only nods, and slides down against the stone that I am lain out on. Strange, how I can see him beside me without turning my head. He's curled up as if he has been there for quite some time, and he is tired.

"If they take me again, come with me." I whisper, suddenly as frightened as I've ever been. Armand rises and stands over me.

"What are they? You must tell me."

Crying seems like the thing to do here. Why the hell not? I feel a warm weight around me, as Armand settles beside me on the stone. Warmth... he must have fed.

"If I can not follow you," he whispers, "Then I will use whatever force necessary to drag you back."

I wonder why he is lying here beside me, rather than sitting inside with his new immortal children. The look on his face is good proof that the little bastard is still in my mind.

_Lestat!!_

Hot liquid flows into my mouth. Blood, his blood. He's almost as brutally insistent as my angels. His fingers dig into my back like claws, but just as his heat begins to edge into my cold, he is gone. There's a low moan from the wall. Haven't I heard this all before?

_Lestat!!!_

You win this time.


End file.
